Sleepover
by Shotaphile
Summary: DCMK Oneshot; Kid and Conan centric "Would you have preferred it if there was a dead body for you to poke at?”


**Pairings: **None, really, but Conan/Kid if you really want to see it I suppose.

**Warnings:** Vague heist, vague setting, vague setup for the entire premise, but this isn't a plot piece anyway so I don't see why anyone should mind; a bit of picking on Hakuba; brief spat of Shota!vision with no real consequences beyond making Hakuba uncomfortable.

**A/N: **A humorous, pointless little oneshot born from picking a random cliche (sleepover, I realize, is not nearly as obvious of a cliche as, say, the closet, but it still serves it's purpose) and running with it. When I first wrote it this intended to be a purely one time thing, but I've only managed to fall even deeper into the DC and, more importantly, MK fandom, so if anyone reads and enjoys this and wants to see more, feel free to supply me with more cliche prompts!

* * *

**Sleepover**

* * *

"Worst. Sleepover. Ever." Conan snapped, one of the police officer's flashlights glinting off of his glasses before Kaito pulled him further into the shadows. "And I've been to themed ones."

"Well I couldn't leave you home alone, now could I?" Kaito hummed distractedly, firing off a rally of cards at the task force that had them ducking and weaving enough to make any mother proud. "That would have been terribly i-rre-spon-si-ble (pinning one man to the wall though his uniform with five clean shots) of me. Would you have preferred it if there was a dead body for you to poke at?"

Conan's eyes gleamed with sudden interest.

"You can't be serious!"

"If you back up any further we'll have one." Conan said drolly, already picturing the angle of the fall and the artistic arrangement of limbs across concrete, monocle shattered, pristine white stained red. "Two if you don't let go of me."

Kaito stopped moving back just in time, left heel hovering out over space and fingers tightening their grip on Conan's shoulder imperceptibly (unless, of course, it was your own shoulder held in that vice like grip, and then it was quite evident). "I have my hang glider." He pointed out, even as he edged the two of them away from the drop.

"I may have disabled that before we left." Conan admitted, just as Hakuba barreled around a corner, hair still faintly smoking from something Conan had mixed up in the kitchen earlier that evening and refused to tell Kaito what was in it.

"KID!" He shouted, pointing an angry finger of justice at the two of them. "YOU'RE PAYING FOR MY DEEP CLEANSING FOLICLE TREATMENT!" And then, almost as an afterthought, he added. "And release that boy!"

"Geh." Kid said, snatching Conan up into his arms (the boy scratched and yowled just like some angry, feral kitten, and his glasses tumbled to the floor in the scuffle) and leaping to one of the crossbeams above their head, cape fluttering prettily in the moonlight. He ignored one angry detective the other, slightly more manageable one clutched to his chest. "Why would you disable my cape?!" He asks, baffled, and maybe just a little bit disappointed. His best exit! Right out the window! Or rather, not, as it seemed things were going to go that night.

Conan shrugged, surly, but he'd stopped squirming at least, having no real desire to wind up a smear on the concrete below. "I wanted to see how you'd handle it, being grounded." His blue, blue eyes narrowed as he watched Hakuba bend down to pick up his glasses, pocketing them surruptiously. "And you probably should stop him from the deep cleansing, there are chemicals in the process that react poorly with the solution."

"And you just decided to tell me this now, what if I'd jumped before you got a chance to - react poorly how?" Kaito's train of thought derailed suddenly, clearly intrigued.

"You would have figured something out." Conan assured him, and Kaito felt a tiny surge of pride before one of the newer recruits had the bright idea to chuck his police baton at Kaito's smug face and he ducked, shielding Conan's head with one arm even as Nakamori-keibu tore the guy a new one for 'endangering civilians'. "Nair poorly." He added when he could safely look up again.

Kaito definitely didn't cackle. Okay. Maybe just a little.

~*~

"We've been here all night." Conan said, yawning widely for effect and rubbing at his eyes to make them watery and bleary, like he'd just woken up. The brisk air on the way back, riding on Kaito's shoulders as the phantom thief dashed through the night, had mussed his hair and he'd changed into one of Kaito's sleeping shirts, gaping a bit at the shoulders and so long that you couldn't really be sure if he was wearing anything under it, an image which, he'd learned since the transformation, tendencies or not, almost always made men terribly uncomfortable.

Hakuba was no different, looking anywhere but at Conan, glaring over his head at Kaito (looking just, if not more, rumpled and wearing the bottoms to Conan's top, tiny green clovers which is, really, just sort of like rubbing it in the detective's face, isn't it?) "You screwed up this time Kuroba." He said, pointing again, and Conan maybe began to rethink that whole part to his cases, because it really is a terribly rude habit. "We have witnesses who put Edogawa-kun at the scene, and unless you'd like to admit to gross negligence in allowing Kid to get a hold of the boy when he was in your hands..."

"How good was the lighting?" Conan interrupted, piping in that little kid's voice he only ever used when he was planning on screwing someone over.

"What." Hakuba said, startled, like no one had ever dared to interrupt him mid snit before.

"How. Good. Was. The. Lighting." Conan reiterated slowly, as if he was the seventeen year old talking to the grade schooler here, rather than the other way around. He knew, of course, abysmal, but admitting to that would have defeated the entire purpose of asking in the first place.

Hakuba thought on it. "Well… not so good I suppose. Kid had cut the power and-- "

"Did this person identify themselves in any way, request your help?"

"No..."

"Pose for a picture?"

"NO!" Hakuba shouted, feeling more than slightly ridiculous under Conan's steady gaze and guileless smile. Kaito's heart went out to him, it really did; Conan had the ability to make the most self confident, intelligent person in the world feel like a blathering idiot with only a few, well chosen words and a Poker Face to rival even Kaito's under the best of circumstances.

"So what you're saying is, you saw a boy roughly my size at the heist and merely presumed it to be me to fit the facts in your highly biased little theory."

"We have your glasses!" Hakuba snapped, producing them with a little flourish that had Kaito clapping and oohing his showmanship.

Conan scrutinized them briefly before turning away. "They're not mine."

"WHAT." Hakuba said.

Conan stared him down, unflinching. "There're not mine. Look at the glass, it's flat, there's absolutely no magnifying power on those things. They're fake."

Hakuba spluttered. Held the glasses up to the light to confirm Conan's observation. Spluttered a bit more upon doing so.

Kaito grinned. Cat, meet cream.

Conan muttered something dark about noisy teenagers and 'I have a set bedtime for a reason damnit' and trudged wearily back to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Hakuba." Kaito said, voice all carefully measured concern. "What happened to your hair?"

In the end, the only thing that save Kaito was the fact that committing a murder anywhere within Conan's vicinity was pretty much the same as walking into a police station already handcuffed, and everyone present knew it.


End file.
